


CalTech

by telera



Category: Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Angst, Dark, Double Drabble, M/M, POV First Person, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-08
Updated: 2012-11-08
Packaged: 2017-11-18 06:01:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telera/pseuds/telera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on the tronkinkmeme: "Ed Junior/Sam - non-con. I don't really have a preference for who's the aggressor, because I can see it working either way for various reasons".</p>
<p>One drabble is from Sam's POV, the other from Ed's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	CalTech

I shared a room at CalTech. When the sophomores learnt who my roommate was, they only told me one thing: ‘Don’t call him Junior’.

And that’s exactly what I did the moment I clicked the door shut.

‘You must be Junior’ I said.

Next thing I knew was a fist in my face. Then in my stomach, so many times that I doubled over and fell to my knees.

‘And you must be my new bitch’ he said, fisting a hand in my hair and knocking me unconscious against the wall.

I came to some time later, naked and cold. There was no trace of my stuff, my bag and laptop had disappeared.

‘Crawl over here, bitch’.

He was sitting on his bed, and I gave him the finger as I spat a bloody ‘Fuck you’.

Big mistake. The fucker was a black belt in Judo, and he beat me up for good. I woke up at three in the morning with a broken nose, a swollen eye and my body bruised black and blue.

‘Crawl over here’, he said again, and this time I obeyed.

‘Good’ he murmured as I put my head on his lap ‘There is only one rule with me, bitch. You do as I say if you want to survive’.

He pulled his pyjama pants open then, and forced his cock down my throat. I had never given head before, you know? I was only eighteenth. 

‘You’re a worthless little bitch’ he said pulling out of my mouth as I gagged and sputtered ‘But it will be a pleasure to train you’.

He pulled me over the bed then, and used the cold cream of his forgotten cappuccino as lube. I hadn’t cried during the beating, but I cried then. He ripped me open with deep, vicious thrusts. I couldn’t walk to class for the next few days.

 

That was good, he said, because he’d use the time to teach me my new duties. I had to study and work for him, wash his clothes and do the cooking. I had to fall to my knees whenever he snapped his fingers, and present my ass to him every night. A word about what was going on and he would send me to the hospital in a coma.

I still don’t know how I managed to smile whenever people asked me why I quit CalTech.

*************************

I shared a room at CalTech. I had no money for a single one. Actually, I barely had money to pay the fees. I guess this is what happens when your father’s been in jail for longer than you can remember and your foster family kicks you out on the day of your 18th birthday.

At the dorm, I was just one more of the skinny, always hungry freshmen that fed on French fries and ketchup once a day. Waiting tables at The Metropolitan paid for the accommodation and books, so yeah. I had been wearing the same jeans for two years and a half.

This is why I couldn’t understand why Sam Golden Boy Flynn would share a room. Weren’t rich kids supposed to live in penthouses in the upper part of the city? When he shook my hand he mentioned something about meeting people and leading a normal life. Yeah. As if the heir of a Fortune 500 company would ever want to do that.

Sam rarely went to class, and was always sleeping in bed when I woke up at seven. He mumbled a ‘Goodbye Ed’ sometimes, but most of the time he was drunk from parties. That’s why I used to get dressed in the room, not caring to do so in the bathroom after the morning shower.

The first one hundred dollar bill appeared one day over one of my books. I put it in a drawer and told Sam he had forgotten it there.

‘Hey, Sam. This is yours’ I said offering him the note.

‘Oh, no Eddy. That’s for you’.

I was so stunned that my eyes went wide. 

‘For me? Why?’ 

‘For this morning’ he said, and checked me out with a grin ‘I saw you all wet with that little towel around your hips. Nice pecs, gorgeous ass. You gave me sweet dreams until the evening’.

He winked an eye at me and left me there, with the note in my hand. There must have been at least twenty reasons why I shouldn’t have accepted it. But I did, and for the first time in months, I sat down at a café that afternoon to have a real cappuccino. And I forgot about it. Until two weeks later, he slid into my bed.

‘What the-?’

‘Shhh’ he said placing a hand over my mouth and tugging at my pyjama pants with the other ‘I’ll give you five hundred dollars. What do you say, Ed?’

I fought him, and even landed a good punch in his stomach. But he was stronger, and overpowered me easily.

‘You need them, don’t you?’ he licked my ear and opened his fly ‘It’s more than you’d get in the street’.

I panicked and tried to kick him, but all my efforts were in vain. He fucked me dry. For fun, I guess. I passed out from the pain, and I suppose he kept on chuckling and fucking me until he came deep inside me. I couldn’t move the following day, but I managed to walk to the shower to wash the smell of sex, blood and dry semen.

When I limped into the bedroom again, I found five hundred dollars and a yellow post it over my table.

‘Don’t be stupid. There will be more’.

You know, one never plans to become a whore. It just happens. And you learn to live with it.


End file.
